My murder game like a Roy Jones one, two. Now when the funds due who still gonna front yo. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
Got paper, money forever green Glock .20, spittin a hundred and seventeen. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
I'm bitch-nigga proof, 180 proof, liquor proof. I got to make a nigga disappear, trigger proof! — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
Throwin ones tryin to motivate your body rock. Yea its a dirty money thing, so right about now ima let dirty money sing. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
I pump rock myself, like the infusion. Shake down got pink but not an illusion. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
Baby I wanna Give you the business. After that sop you up with a biscuit. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
I can say whatever I'm a tax paying citizen, middle finger up, I ain't got a conscience. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
My murder game like a Roy Jones one, two. Now when the funds due who still gonna front yo. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
They don't let the hawk in the disco, West coast, shirt off in the 6-4, See my down ass bitch like to dip low,… — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
Now I been shot in the neck, that was almost fatal. Now I'm the Shoot-a-Homie never under the navel. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
Pour for them white girls, them light girls, We just buy all these bottles cause it excites girls. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
I need it, and I'ma bring it till its brought, believe it. Plus I know you ain't got no iron cause you anemic. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
It's whatever for the dough, whatever on the 'flo, like I'm from 'Frisco just tell me when to go. — Red Cafe Copy Share Image
